An Understanding
by PrincessJosephine
Summary: Margaret, living in London after the death of her parents, is invited to accompany Mr Bell to Helstone. With high expectations she journeys to her childhood home not realising that her visit would result in an unexpected meeting. A meeting that could prove the most important of her life.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a story based on Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South. I have included snippets of text from the book in tribute. (You will see that my writing style is quite basic in comparison). This is my first fanfiction so I am a complete amateur. Disclaimer: These characters/borrowed text do not belong to me._

**Chapter 1**

Margaret had been filled with so much hope when Mr Bell first invited her to accompany him to Helstone. Hope that it would break the routine of London life. Hope that it would be a welcome distraction for a preoccupied mind. Hope that it would bring back happy memories of a blessed childhood home. And finally, hope that it would sooth the lingering sense of loss and displacement that made her whole being feel weighed down and lifeless everyday.

And now, as she was on the fly between the station and Helstone, _sharper feelings came shooting through her heart, whether pain or pleasure she could hardly tell. Every mile was redolent of associations, which she would not have missed for the world, but each of which made her cry upon 'the days that are no more,' with ineffable longing. The last time she had passed along this road was when she had left it with her father and mother – the day, the season, had been gloomy, and she herself hopeless, but they were there with her. Now she was alone, an orphan, and they, strangely, had gone away from her and vanished from the face of the earth….._

_Mr Bell knew something of what would be passing through her mind, and wisely and kindly held his tongue. _He looked over at his godchild and thought again what a blessing she was. Just being in her presence was a balm for his soul, even when she was as solemn and thoughtful as today. Dressed in a claret wine-coloured travelling suit she was the very picture of London style. But it was in the way she held herself, her manner of speech, the sincerity behind her kind eyes that gave her true grace. He could not help but love her, though he knew she would never look at him in that light. Not the way she looked at John Thornton. He was quite reconciled to that. But she was the only vestige remaining of the most important friendship of his life. That was enough for him to lay down his life for her if she asked him to.

Margaret now stole a glance at Mr Bell. He was looking out of the window, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the scenery in its summer glory. Still a handsome man for his age, he had a style of his own complemented by a devil may care manner. This brought a small smile to Margaret's face. He could be mischievous at times. Conversation was never dull when Mr Bell was around. He had an extraordinary ability to read people and identify the undercurrents of feeling otherwise suppressed by politeness, congeniality and propriety.

Like how she felt about Mr Thornton. Margaret suspected that Mr Bell understood her feelings for his tenant, long before she did. Mr Thornton. The thought of him brought a tumult of emotions she could hardly make sense of. Anger, frustration, tenderness, loss and love. He was the best man of her acquaintance and she had missed her chance of a life with him. Her lies and deceit, however well intentioned, had ruined her in his eyes. There was no hope he would renew his addresses. Those feeling had passed – he had said so himself.

Would it make a difference if he knew the truth?

Margaret spoke aloud for the first time in a while. _'I am not likely ever to see Mr Thornton again,' – and there she stopped._

_'__There are many things more unlikely, I should say,' replied Mr Bell_, the edges of his mouth creeping up at her random remark. He guessed that the handsome manufacturer from the north was the subject of a good deal of his young charge's thoughts.

_'__But I believe I never shall. Still somehow one does not like to have sunk so low in – in a friend's opinion as I have done in his.' Her eyes were full of tears, but her voice was steady, and Mr Bell was not looking at her. 'And now that Frederick has given up all hope, and almost all wish of ever clearing himself, and retuning to England, it would be only doing myself justice to have all this explained. If you please, and if you can, if there is a good opportunity, (don't force and explanation on upon him, pray) but if you can, will you tell him the whole circumstances, and tell him also that I gave you leave to do so, because I felt that for papa's sake I should not like to lose his respect, though we may never be likely to meet again?'_

Margarets words were tripping over themselves, so anxious was she to beg his assistance.

'Certainly Margaret, I will do this for you if given the chance. I think he ought to know and _I do not like you to rest even under the shadow of an impropriety_…

Mr Bell thought Margaret appeared to visibly relax with this promise. Clearly her attachment was very strong. Something must be done. Two lovers with such passion for each other should not be separated by stubborn ill founded convictions and misunderstanding.

Whilst she felt the truth, when told, may restore some respect and regard Mr Thornton may have had for her, Margaret still harbored doubts that _any explanation could reinstate her – not in his love. _Still, better that he respect and esteem her than to hold her in such disdain..

'Margaret,' Mr Bell's voice broke through her heavy reverie, 'I thought we would make a stop at the Lennard Arms for a snack and to order dinner before we start our tour of the village.'

Margaret smiled. No doubt Mrs Purkis, the landlady would be there to greet them. She wondered if news of the passing of the previous vicar would have reached the leafy parish.

_They drove up to the Lennard Arms; half farm-house, half inn, standing a little apart form the road_…Margaret smiled weakly as Mr Bell offered his hand to help her out from the carriage. _The door of the inn stood wide open, but there was no hospitable hurry to receive the travellers. When the landlady did appear ….– she gave them a kind welcome, almost as if they had been invited guests, and apologized for her coming having been so delayed..._

_'__Why, bless me!' exclaimed she, as at the end of her apology, a glint of sunlight showed her Margaret's face, hitherto unobserved in that shady parlour. 'It's Miss Hale, Jenny,' said she running to the door and calling to her daughter. 'Come here, come directly, it's Miss Hale!' And then she went up to Margaret, and shook her hands with motherly fondness._

'Hello Mrs Purkis. It is lovely to see you again.' Margaret rallied to maintain a measure of happiness in her voice. 'How have you been since we last met'?

'Speak not of me miss' Mrs Purkis enveloped Margaret's tiny hands, 'it is you we should be concerning ourselves with. Such loss for one so young. Your mother, and then your father. The Vicar, _we've never ceased to be sorry that he left_. _To think the Vicar being dead.'_

_'__It is so, however,' said Mr Bell. 'He died quite suddenly, when on a visit to me at Oxford. He was a good man, Mrs Purkis, and there's many of us that might be thankful to have as calm an end as his_. '

Margaret's silent tears caught in her throat. She choked back sobs that threatened to be released for all that she had lost.

'_Come, Margaret, my dear_.' Mr Bell put his arm around Margaret lightly to sooth her, explaining to Mrs Purkis that Mr Hale was his oldest friend and that Margaret was his god-daughter. '_I thought we would come down together and see the old place_, but maybe it was not a good idea after all.'

Margaret, regaining some composure now, shook her head and smiled through her tears at Mr Bell. 'No, I still believe this may be just the tonic I need. I want to be able to rejoice in the memories of my parents, and my childhood. Excuse my tears. I will try to be strong.'

Margaret turned again to the older lady. 'We made many good friends in the north, Mrs Purkis, but I know my parents treasured the memory of the people who shared our happy life in Helstone.'

'Thank you, dear. We shall always remember Mr and Mrs Hale fondly.' Mrs Purkis' countenance suddenly brightened and a smile lit her plump face. 'It is almost providential that you have arrived today Miss Hale. It is only this morning that I believe we said goodbye to one of your friends from the north. A very handsome man if you will pardon my presumptuous manner. He stayed with us for 2 nights. Said he was a manufacturer of cotton. I'm not sure why he was here, he only said that he was passing through on his way back to Milton. He was the one who told us of your late parents passing.'

Margaret's breath constricted and her heart beat wildly. Is it possible that he was here? But why?

'Mrs Purkis, did he say what his name was?' Margaret could hardly form the words. Her mind was racing and she felt suddenly cold at the thought that she came so close to seeing him again.

'Jenny, what was the name of that handsome man from the north?' Jenny had appeared at the door and now joined the small party at the entrance to the inn.

'Mr Thornton, I believe,' said Jenny, picturing the tall stranger and his commanding presence.

Margaret gasped. She had been holding her breath without realizing.

'What time did he leave this morning Mrs Purkis?' it was Mr Bell who asked the question that he knew Margaret wanted the answer to.

'About 9 o'clock sir,' said Mrs Purkis.

'And where was he headed?' The urgency in Mr Bell's voice compelled Mrs Purkis to answer promptly.

'I believe he said that it was such a beautiful day that he would walk the fields and make his way back to the station for the 2 o'clock train north.'

Margaret looked to Mr Bell communicating with unspoken words.

Mr Bell took Margaret's hand. 'It is quarter to two my dear. You may yet make it!' Turning to Mrs Purkis 'is there a cab that Miss Hale can avail herself of?'

Mrs Purkis, quite puzzled by the whole goings on prevailed upon Jenny to fetch Thomas and the carriage immediately.

Margaret smiled gratefully at Mrs Purkis and squeezed Mr Bell's hand. 'Thank you,' she whispered. Mr Bell helped Margaret into the carriage and instructed Thomas to make haste to the station. He then watched on as a grateful Margaret waved to her God-father as the carriage took her away. It was the most energized and impassioned he had seen her pretty face in some time.

'Well, shall we see to that snack Mrs Purkis?' A bemused Mrs Purkis followed the debonair Oxford gentleman inside, all the while wondering to herself what had just taken place and whether the late Mrs Hale would have approved of such conduct.

'What am I doing?' thought Margaret. 'What must I be thinking to race off in such an impetuous manner in pursuit of a man who does not love me.'

Margaret was trying to gather her thoughts to decide on what she was going to say if she was to come face to face again with John Thornton. Should she politely ask him to stay in Helstone a little longer so that they may exchange information on common acquaintances? Or should she throw herself at his feet begging his forgiveness and plead for the opportunity to tell her story.

She felt completely senseless, like she had abandoned her wits. But what did she really have to lose?

All she knew was that the horses could not carry her fast enough to her destination. To her heart's desire.

At once the carriage stopped and Margaret bounded out. She could see the train at the platform and could hear the closing of doors. Running up the stairs she did all she could to make it to the top in good time. As her eyes came into line with the passenger windows, steam wafted up and the train moved. Margaret helplessly looked around her for some way to stop the train. It was no use. He was lost to her, again. She stood and watched the carriages move past her, hoping for a glimpse of him.

In time she turned around, tears blurring her eyesight and her head bowed in painful disappointment. She did not hear or see the person hurtling around the corner towards her until it was too late. Margaret collided with a dishevelled, tall man in a dark frock coat who took her by the arms to steady them both.

Margaret looked up in apology only to gaze into a pair of familiar blue eyes looking as startled as she felt.

'Miss Hale!'


	2. Chapter 2

John felt a sense of elation as he realised exactly who the beautiful young woman was that he was holding by both arms. Reluctantly he let her go to straighten his own appearance, in particular to tie his cravat that was still loosely hanging around his neck. Having fallen asleep in a nearby obliging field, he had only woken minutes ago to find that it was already almost 2 o'clock.

In a sun kissed meadow he had dreamt of her. Maybe he was still dreaming. He had just missed a train and was now staring, dazed and speechless at the woman who mattered most to him in the world. As his fingers deftly went to work on his cravat, he silently chastised his lack of focus - what had happened to the highly disciplined and purposeful Master of Marlborough Mills?

It was Margaret who spoke first. 'I am sorry Mr Thornton, for my clumsiness just now. I hope I did not cause you injury?

'No, not at all. I fear I am just as much to blame.' He looked at the train disappearing into the distance. 'But alas my running for the train was to no avail after all.' John smiled, 'It would seem my timing is often out of kilter.' He looked at Margaret's lovely face and noticed the colour draining from her usually-rosy cheeks. 'I hope you are not hurt either, Miss Hale? You look a little pale. Perhaps you should sit down?' John had never felt so full of inner turmoil and yet so happy in his whole life.

Margaret smiled at his concern. 'No, I am just surprised to see you here Mr Thornton. Here in Helstone, I mean.'

Not expecting to have to explain himself, John decided to tell her some of the truth. 'I decided to take a short detour on my way back from a, a business trip,' he stammered. He pointed to a bench on the platform and waited for Margaret to sit before he joined her. 'I wanted to see where my good friend from Helstone had lived his life, and where he raised his _two_ children.'

Margaret, who until this point had been looking down demurely, now raised her eyes to Mr Thornton to question the truth of what she had just heard. 'You know about my brother?'

'Yes. I must confess that Higgins told me a few days ago. He had asked after your health and was surprised that you had not gone to Spain to live with your brother.' John paused, fighting to keep disappointment out of his voice. Looking into her soulful eyes now he pressed her to share her secret. 'Miss Hale, why did you not tell me about him? Was I so untrustworthy that you and your family felt you needed to conceal such a painful truth?'

Margaret could see the hurt on Mr Thornton's face. She needed him to understand that it was her dearest wish to be able to share her burden with him but that she could not risk Frederick's life – even if it meant sacrificing her own happiness.

'You are a magistrate Mr Thornton. I could not have told you without compromising you or risking Frederick.' She looked down at the fingers that were still shaking from this unexpected meeting. 'My wishes were not material in the matter.'

Margaret never ceased to amaze him with her selflessness and disregard for her own happiness. She embodied everything that was good and beautiful in life. Here she sat within reach. The girl that he had scolded and scorned, looking at him now with compassion - and something else that he could not quite discern. He cursed himself for the thoughts that he had. His imaginings that she was sneaking about in the dark with a lover filled him with self-loathing and disgust - that he could believe the worst of such an innocent.

John sat silently, taking in the sight of her. In those moments it occurred to him that he did not know why she was here in Helstone either.

'Miss Hale, may I enquire as to why you have come to Helstone?'

Margaret fidgeted with her dress, smoothing out an invisible crease. 'I am here with Mr Bell. It was a surprise visit, to lift my spirits.' She smiled a half smile.

John could see the pain still behind those eyes. 'Where is Mr Bell?'

'He is at the Lennard Arms, probably having something to eat right about now.' She knew where this line of questioning was heading and felt anxious.

'Miss Hale, excuse my curiosity, I do not want to know more than you wish to tell me, but what were you doing on the platform just now?' John was at a loss as to her sudden appearance. It felt like he had conjured her out of thin air.

'I was looking for you,' was her only answer.

This was not what John was expecting to hear. What did she mean? How did she know he was there? Why would Margaret go to such effort to see him?

'Why?' John searched her face for a clue to her thoughts. It was always her silence that bothered him most. He wanted to know what she was thinking. What she was feeling.

The question was simple enough but Margaret knew the answer was not. With thoughts swimming in her head, she struggled to find the right response. Why did she come? To atone for all the pain? To tell the truth? To seek forgiveness?

Finally she raised her eyes to John, and sounding bolder than she felt said, 'Because I think my future happiness depends on you.'


	3. Chapter 3

Margaret's words were bitter sweet to John. How many months had he hoped for a sign that she could change her opinion and consider a life with him? God knows he loves her. Despite everything that had transpired between them, the one constant was his passion for her and the inspiration she provided to be the best version of himself.

Here she was, this divine creature in all her perfection, vulnerable, declaring herself in word and in deed. How could he disobey the deepest yearnings of his heart when she could be offering him everything he ever wanted? He wanted to take her in his arms and…

He ran his hand through his disheveled hair. He turned and with as much calm as he could muster took her hands in his. 'Margaret, I cannot respond in the way I think you want me to. Circumstances have changed for me. I am not at liberty to be offering you a future.'

Margaret was taken aback. What did he mean, not at liberty? Had he become engaged during those months she was in London? Margaret retracted her hands and looked down at the ground. 'I see'.

John took her hands again and implored her to look at him. 'No I don't think you do. Marlborough Mills has failed. We never recovered after the strike. I will not be able to pay my debts unless I close the doors. I can probably only afford to continue for a few more weeks. My future, and my mother's future is in doubt.' He stopped, considering his next words carefully. 'I am no longer in a position to take a wife.'

This was perhaps the hardest speech John had ever had to make. In saying the words he had acknowledged the truth. It took all his strength not to break down at that moment.

Margaret was at a loss. He still loved her. She could see it. The tenderness with which he spoke, the honesty in his eyes told her that his heart was hers. But his words were telling her they could not be together.

She felt numb, almost faint. She thought of Nicholas and all of the people that would be put out of work with the closure of the mill. She thought of John's mother and all her sacrifices for the son that she lived for. And John, the most noble of men who had raised his fortune through hard work and unfailing commitment, now in reduced circumstances at no fault of his own.

'Speak Margaret, please tell me your thoughts?' He could not bear that he was hurting her. But there was no other alternative. It was the only way.

She responded, almost in a whisper, 'you must know that social position and fortune means naught to me. I seek only a partner in life that I can love and respect and who will love and respect me in return. John, surely you would not cast aside our…' Margaret paused to rephrase, 'surely you would not risk your own happiness because of what other people might say or opposition you might face?'

'Margaret, you in turn must see that I am an honorable and some might say proud man. Honorable men do not make offers of marriage to respectable women of good standing without the security and comfort of a home and income. Your family would never condone such a match.' I could never live with myself, added John to himself.

'Is there no-one that will invest to help you re-establish yourself?' Margaret spoke her thoughts aloud.

John looked at Margaret with regret. 'I am only just returning from my last attempt to find a backer. I have done little else in recent weeks.'

John stood, turned his back and paced a few steps away from Margaret. Margaret stared into the distance wondering at the unfairness of life. Why did it have to be this hard? Had they not been through enough to get to this point?

Finally John returned and held out his arm to Margaret. 'May I escort you back to the Lennard Arms Miss Hale'.

So that was how it was going to be between them. A few delirious moments of heartfelt honesty before returning to the formality that propriety dictated was proper. Margaret stood and took his arm.

They sat in silence as the carriage delivered them back to the inn. John was tormented by his circumstances. Fate seemed to be mocking him, bringing Margaret back into his life when he had no choice but to leave her.

Margaret felt an acute lack of control over her own destiny. With no fortune or dowry to offer she was at the mercy of her family, and Mr Bell. John was right. They would not approve a match in his present situation.

John helped Margaret from the carriage. Inhaling deeply, he submitted to memory her delicate brand of lavender and linen. Taking a last long look at her, John gently cleared his throat to attract her attention.

'Miss Hale, I fear I must leave you now. There is another train today and it is imperative that I return to Milton.' In truth it mattered little if he left today or tomorrow, but he feared that if he stayed he would weaken in his resolve and she may succeed in changing his mind.

'Mr Bell will be disappointed not to have had the pleasure of your company.' Margaret held her emotion in check as she prepared to say good-bye.

'Please extend my apologies to Mr Bell. I will need to speak with him soon with regards to my lease. I wish you both a pleasant stay in Helstone.' As he motioned to climb into the waiting carriage, John reflected calmly, 'From what I have seen I can understand why you found it so hard to adjust to Milton.'

Margaret smiled for the first time since they left the station but it did not touch her eyes. John's heart ached. 'Yes, it was an adjustment. I felt so out of place, I hardly knew myself. Perhaps that was why I was unable to see what was right in front of my eyes all that time.'

John understood her words but responded with a curt 'Good bye Miss Hale'. Tipping his hat he got in the carriage and drove away. Alone in the confines of the cab, tears welled in John's eyes for only the second time in his adult life.

Margaret stood gazing after the carriage feeling more alone than at any other time in her life.


	4. Chapter 4

Margaret awoke from a heavy sleep to the sound of Dixon bringing in a breakfast tray.

'Good morning Miss Margaret. I thought I would let you sleep late this morning after your journey back from Helstone yesterday.' Dixon opened the drapes to let the morning light in.

'Thank you Dixon, that was very thoughtful.' Margaret sleepily rose from her bed to sit by the tray. She listlessly poured her tea and sat stirring the cup, staring vacantly into the milky liquid.

'Are you all right this morning Miss Margaret, you seem out of sorts – well more than usual anyway.' Dixon, considering herself almost the closest thing Margaret had left to a mother, felt it her responsibility to check on her young charge's health and wellbeing. 'I trust you had a nice visit to Helstone?'

'Very nice thank you Dixon, although it was not everything I thought it would be.' In fact the trip have been very different to what Margaret had expected.

'That's a shame Miss,' Dixon commented as she began laying out Margaret's day dress and undergarments.

'I do not mean to say that anything has changed. Rather, I think maybe time and distance has given me new perspective. Perhaps you could say I have taken off my rose coloured spectacles.'

'I am sorry to hear that,' said Dixon, 'although I have always preferred London to just about anywhere else.'

After helping her dress, Dixon brushed Margaret's hair and began braiding it in the latest fashion. As she worked, Margaret reflected on her time at Helstone.

After Mr Thornton left, Mr Bell was uncharacteristically quiet, almost like he was allowing her the space she needed to go over in her mind what had just happened. No doubt he had his suspicions about what had taken place, especially when Margaret returned to the inn alone. But whatever his thoughts, and however strong the temptation to ask, he kept perfectly silent on the matter.

Over supper that evening, Margaret explained that she had seen Mr Thornton at the Railway Station, that Marlborough Mill would be closing and that Mr Thornton would need to forego his lease. She deliberately evaded mentioning the status of their relationship.

Mr Bell was solicitous in his attentions, offering no judgment other than shaking his head in disbelief at times. At one point Margaret thought she heard him mutter 'damned proud fool.'

Over the next couple of days, Mr Bell escorted Margaret through the village, swapping stories from happier times about her parents and the parsonage. He extended her a prodigious deal of freedom to use the time as she needed. At her request he even arranged for them to call on the new vicar and his wife so that she may see her childhood home. This however turned out to be a disastrous visit. Margaret recalled in shame how Mr Bell placed a fatherly hand on her arm to assuage the fury she felt when the new vicar questioned her own father's act of conscience.

Though sad to say, Margaret was never so glad to leave a place, as she was to leave Helstone. It was no longer her paradise - that chapter of her life was closed. There was no going back.

So here she was, returned to the dull drudgery of life in London. Margaret's only consolation was that John now knew the truth. More than that, his visit to Helstone gave her reason to hope that he still cared for her, loved her even. But with no understanding between them, she did not know where her future lay.

Her Aunt continued to welcome her at Harley Street, although Margaret knew that Mr Bell was contributing a handsome sum each year for her lodging. Whilst Mr Bell lived, Margaret felt secure in the knowledge that she was not being a financial burden on Aunt Shaw.

Margaret did not mean to seem ungrateful but _she was afraid lest she should even become sleepily deadened into forgetfulness of anything beyond the life which was lapping her round with luxury. There might be toilers and moilers there in London, but she never saw them; the very servants lived in an underground world of their own, of which she knew neither the hopes nor the fears; they only seemed to start into existence when some want or whim of their master and mistress needed them._

_There was a strange unsatisfied vacuum in Margaret's heart and mode of life. _She often wondered how she was going to continue on in this manner. Whilst she lived life under Aunt Shaw's roof she was obliged to attend social engagements with the likes of the Pipers. Shallow conversations followed by tedious card games. Margaret longed for the spirited debates that she had with her Father and even at times Mr Thornton. She was sure that if she stayed where she was for too long she would surely wither away with boredom.

But what were her options? Marry someone she did not love for comfort and security? Margaret knew, that with a little encouragement, Henry Lennox would renew his offer of marriage. Whilst she was very fond of him, she did not love him.

Entertaining these thoughts only reinforced to Margaret her long held belief that she could never enter into a marriage without love.

'There you go Miss Margaret, you look as fine as any lady in the ton. Now if you don't mind, I will be off to run some errands for Mrs Shaw.' And with that Dixon left Margaret alone with her thoughts.

Margaret's head was now pounding. Sleep had evaded her until nearly dawn. This will not do, she thought to herself and put on her hat and gloves to get some fresh air and exercise.

***So this was how Margaret continued to spend her days in London. In between social calls and shopping with Edith, Margaret would seek the solitude of a walk in the park, occasionally taking Sholto for a stroll in his pram. People wanting to admire her handsome baby would often stop Margaret to remark on how proud she must be. It was at those times that she felt the poignancy of her situation, and the loss of what could have been.

Often during her walks, Margaret would see a rather severe looking lady, maybe ten to fifteen years her senior, sitting alone on a bench reading. On one occasion, whilst walking past, Margaret managed to catch her eye and smile at her in greeting. The bookish woman gave a half smile, but looked around as if finding it hard to believe that she was the intended recipient of the handsome lady's notice.

A few days later, Margaret saw her again and decided to take a rest on the bench next to her. Taking off her gloves and looking around, Margaret remarked on the beautiful gardens and scenery before them. The reserved woman, wearing thick rimmed spectacles and her hair drawn back in a tight bun nodded, seemingly still surprised by Margaret's attentions. On closer inspection, Margaret estimated that her new companion was much younger than previously thought and was perhaps only five or six years older than herself. It was merely her manner of dress and austere styling that made her seem much older.

'My name is Margaret Hale, I live in Harley Street.' Margaret extended her hand in greeting. The other lady, surprised by the gesture seemed lost as to how to respond. 'Oh, I'm sorry, I have been living in the north for the last couple of years and I have become accustomed to shaking hands when you meet someone new. Please don't be alarmed by my forwardness.'

The normally stern lady smiled tentatively and held out her hand. 'Victoria Barton, Miss Hale. I do not live in these parts but I do teach at a local school - for promising young children of the poorer classes. I come here at lunch to enjoy some tranquility.'

'You teach. What an honorable profession. What ages do you teach Miss Barton?'

'All ages Miss Hale. Many of the older children only attend some of the time as they must work to help put food on their families' table. But in total, I have seventy-two pupils.'

'Seventy-two!' Margaret exclaimed. How many teachers are there at your school, may I ask?'

'Only me.' Miss Barton's shoulders seemed to sag in resignation at her next comments. 'The school is funded by some benevolent local tradespeople that I convinced to support me. Without their money, none of the children would have the opportunity to be educated. Whilst I am dreadfully in need of extra help, I find it difficult to ask for more money to pay another teacher. They have been so generous already.' As Miss Barton spoke, a plan started to formulate in Margaret's mind.

On her way home Margaret thought about her conversation with Miss Barton. Whilst it was obvious that there were many challenges to overseeing a school, Margaret could not help feeling inspired by Miss Barton's accomplishment and the part she was playing in the education of the children. The difference she was making in their lives.

Margaret decided then and there that it was time to find more constructive ways to occupy her time. Rather than participating in dreary social calls with Edith, or sitting restlessly looking out of the window at Harley Street pining for Mr Thornton, Margaret determined she would be more productive. As she thought about it more, she recalled that she was never so happy as when she would accompany her father on his rounds of the parish.

_She took a pride in her forest. Its people were her people. She made hearty friends with them; learned and delighted in using their peculiar words; took up her freedom amongst them; nursed their babies; talked or read with slow distinctness to their old people; carried dainty messes to their sick; resolved before long to teach at the school, where her father went every day as to an appointed task…._

Margaret wondered whether Miss Barton had just opened up a door of opportunity for her to do just that and perhaps fulfill a long forgotten promise to herself.

Margaret set out on her walk the next day with a renewed sense of purpose. As she reached the bench where they had met yesterday, Miss Barton greeted Margaret with a broad smile. 'I hoped you would come again today Miss Hale.' Margaret was touched by her sentiment, imagining that Miss Barton, when not teaching, preferred the company of her favourite volumes rather than making social calls.

After some further light discussion about their common interests in music and literature, Margaret began to feel more and more that maybe God's hand had been at work bringing Victoria Barton into her life. Margaret thought, that with a little careful nurturing, this relationship could prove mutually very beneficial.

As Victoria was about to leave to return to her classroom, Margaret stopped her. 'Miss Barton, would you be agreeable to my accompanying you back to your classroom this afternoon to observe your teaching in action?'

***Over the coming weeks, Margaret began to volunteer more and more of her time at Miss Barton's school. Aunt Shaw and Edith were at first against the idea; concerned that Margaret would be exposed to all sorts of disease and ills whilst spending time in such a place. But over time, they both could see that the heavy cloud that had hung over Margaret for so long was starting to lift, and the energy and light was returning to her person.

Margaret finally began to feel herself more content and at home in London. She found ample reward in the small faces, whose smiles and giggles warmed her heart, and her time could not have been bestowed on a more grateful recipient than Victoria Barton. In Victoria she felt she had found a life-long friend.

Four months after her trip to Helstone Margaret was readying herself for a day at the school when the morning mail arrived. Margaret had received an invitation. There was to be a wedding in Milton.


	5. Chapter 5

John's cravat had never felt so tight. He was nervous. It was cold outside but he felt overheated in his finest coat.

A sudden silence came over the congregation and he knew she had arrived. He took a deep breath to steady himself. The music began. This is it, he thought.

There she was, as breathtaking as ever. Walking up the aisle, a picture in the palest of pinks that set off her creamy complexion. John could feel himself staring agape, and had to force his eyes to look away. Just before he did, she looked straight at him and bowed her head gracefully in greeting. He wondered whether she felt the same as he did right at this moment.

Despite her outward composure, Margaret felt physically ill from the nerves that weakened her limbs and made her unsteady. For Mary's sake she was determined to make it to the end of the aisle without incident. She was almost undone when she had looked at Mr Thornton. Margaret had nearly forgotten how uncommonly handsome he was. Standing tall, he cut a mesmerising figure in his charcoal suit and grey waistcoat. His usually stern appearance had been replaced by a softer expression. Almost wistful, she thought.

It was only logical that Mr Thornton would be invited to Mary's wedding, mused Margaret. Since Nicholas had begun working at Marlborough Mills, a firm friendship had clearly developed between the Master and the former union leader. A friendship built on respect for each other's convictions, though they may not always agree. Surely Mr Thornton must have understood that as a long time friend of the Higginses, Margaret would be there as well.

I'm glad my presence did not keep him away, thought Margaret as she reached the front of the church.

The congregation turned now to pay their attention to Mary. On the arm of a beaming Nicholas Higgins, Mary was dressed in a gown that was familiar to John. How could he forget it? Imprinted in his memory, it was the one that Margaret had worn to the annual dinner at Marlborough Mills. He would always remember how she looked that night. _He had never seen her in such dress before…it appeared as if such elegance of attire was so befitting her noble figure and lofty serenity of countenance, that she ought to go always thus appareled._

John knew today would be difficult but this all just seemed too cruel. Ah, the torture of sweet visions of the past, interwoven with the forbidding reality of the present. He worried this suffering would send him quite mad.

Returning his thoughts to the young couple that were committing their lives to each other today, John reflected on their engagement.

Hugh, Mary's fiancé and soon to be husband, was a fine young man and the son of a local merchant. He would in time take over his father's business. He seemed to have a good head on his shoulders so John felt confident that he would raise Mary's prospects for the future considerably. He felt well pleased for Higgins. He knew that Nicholas worried for his daughter's future - every father does. Although only her brother, John still felt a sense of relief the day that Watson took Fanny as his bride. To know that she would be taken care of gave him great comfort as well.

John was uncertain exactly how Mary and Hugh had met, but there seemed to be no opposition or censure from either family. They were able to wed without delay. John could not help but feel a little envious.

Mary blushed as Hugh victoriously claimed a kiss when they were announced as husband and wife.

Margaret laughed. Her dear friend had made such a fortunate match – in both a prudential and a felicitous light. She was sure Bessie would have been proud to see her sister looking as jubilant as she did today.

Margaret followed Hugh and Mary out of the church on the arm of Hugh's brother Edward. A year younger than herself, he looked appreciatively at Margaret's form as he swaggered out of the church. Margaret giggled to herself. She would need to be guarded in the attentions she gave this young man. He seemed entirely too enthusiastic!

John watched the wedding party pass and eyed the young man on Margaret's arm with suspicion. Logic told him that he had forfeited the right to be concerned with the company that Margaret kept, but for all his reasonings this did not prevent feelings of jealousy from simmering beneath the surface.

Walking out into the crisp winter air, the newly wedded couple was embraced by family and friends. All invited guests would be making their way back on foot soon after to Hugh's family home for the traditional wedding breakfast.

John spied Nicholas and decided to go over and shake his friend's hand. 'Congratulations Higgins. It is a good match. I think I envy Hugh's stomach most. I am sure I would be happy to partake of Mary's lamb stew for the rest of my life.' Nicholas laughed merrily.

A woman responded from behind John. 'Well they do say that the stomach is the way to an Englishman's heart.' The lilt of her voice was unmistakable to John, so long had it occupied his dreams.

'Oh Miss Margaret,' Nicholas grinned. 'Thank you for attending Mary today…and for the loan of the dress. Her mother would have been so proud to see how beautiful her girl looked today.'

'The pleasure was entirely mine. I am glad that I was able to be part of such a happy occasion. I am sure Bessie would have been smiling down on us.' Nicholas nodded, clearly moved by the thought.

Margaret then turned her eyes to the other gentleman. 'Mr Thornton.'

'Miss Hale, it is good to see you again,' John returned, feeling more like a school boy dumbstruck by an attractive woman than a worldly man of two and thirty.

'Nicholas, what will become of the children while Mary is away on her wedding holiday? I understand that she is going to continue helping you with them upon her return. But in the mean time, who is going to see to their daily needs while you are at work?' Margaret had been enthusiastically welcomed back by Nicholas' adopted children when she visited their home yesterday. Indeed she had been surprised at how well they had remembered her.

'Some of the neighbours have agreed to help out. But to be honest, I am not quite sure how I am going to make it work. Mary deserves this time. I will not let her down.' Nicholas sounded more confident than he felt. John had only just convinced Watson to take him on. Nicholas had started his new position and did not want to risk the opportunity - for he was sure no-one else would have him.

'I would like to help you,' said Margaret. 'I am sure that Hugh's parents will allow me to stay with them while he and Mary are away. Aunt Shaw can spare me from London so I am happy to be at your disposal.' Margaret eyed Nicholas as he considered her plan. 'Oh, please say yes Nicholas.'

Nicholas wondered if there was no end to this fine lady's generosity. 'How can I say no, Miss Margaret? I would consider it a privilege if you would help me care for the children.'

'Good, it is settled then. I shall speak to Mr and Mrs Square at the breakfast.' Margaret smiled in triumph.

John looked on wondering whether it was possible to love this woman more than he already did. She moved effortlessly between the classes, charming all who came into contact with her with her open and amiable manner. John felt even his mother, who still resented Margaret for rejecting him, would be forced to admit her initial impressions of Margaret's haughtiness were flawed.

John finally took possession of his courage and turned to the object of his affections. 'Miss Hale, may I be so bold as to claim your arm for the walk to the Square's home?'

Margaret could feel her hands begin to shake as she attempted to overcome her surprise. She bowed her head and answered diffidently, 'Yes, you may sir.'

Higgins chuckled to himself as the party began its journey down the street.


	6. Chapter 6

To any onlooker, the former Master of Marlborough Mills was gallantly escorting the lady from London to Mr and Mrs Square's wedding breakfast. But to Margaret and John, it was so much more.

Margaret had always prided herself on being a sensible girl. She knew that on occasion her strong sensibilities could lead her to take some risks, but never so much as to bring disgrace or shame to her family, or chance her reputation.

When it came to Mr Thornton however, Margaret was ashamed to admit that she saw another side to herself. From the very beginning it would seem her attraction to him had led her to make questionable judgments, and act in ways that would have been frowned upon had they been exposed in some public way.

Agreeing to take Mr Thornton's arm was just another example of her lack of self-restraint. No good could come of it. Whilst it may make her heart flutter and bring her immeasurable joy today, tomorrow… well, there would be no tomorrow. Mr Thornton was still in reduced circumstances, and there was still no future for them.

This is why Aunt Shaw insists I need a guardian, thought Margaret drily. I need someone to protect me from myself.

John could not help feeling a sense of euphoria at having Margaret on his arm. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like this was his place. Beside her. He knew that in many ways his behavior was grossly unfair to her. To give hope where there was none. But, as honorable as John Thornton was considered by many to be, he was also just a man. The draw of her presence was too much for him. He wanted to drink in her loveliness in the hope it would sustain him in the uncertain days ahead.

How long it would take him to raise his fortunes - or if he ever would - he knew not. _To find oneself no longer young—yet thrown back to the starting-point which requires the hopeful energy of youth—to feel one half of life gone, and nothing done—nothing remaining of wasted opportunity, but the bitter recollection that it has been._

But such unhappy thoughts were a waste of these precious moments with her.

John was the first to speak as they strolled arm in arm. 'Miss Hale, how are all your relation in London? Are they in good health?'

Margaret thought of Aunt Shaw and Edith and how they would feel about her risking her heart in this futile manner. 'They are well, thank you Mr Thornton. Edith, my cousin, is now expecting her second child. Meanwhile Aunt Shaw is making preparations to visit the continent as soon as the weather warms.

'And you, Miss Hale, are you in good health?'

'Yes thank you Mr Thornton, I do believe I am. I feel I am much stronger than the last time we met. I have found much to occupy me in the last four months. In fact, I have been directing my time and attentions to a very worthy cause that I feel deeply attached to.' Margaret's enthusiasm was evident in the brightness of her eyes and her animated face.

John regarded her. Margaret seemed different. She looked almost happy, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders since Helstone. John suddenly felt anxious, wondering at the nature of this attachment she spoke of. 'May I ask what has occupied your attentions?' John did his best to keep his voice even.

Margaret wanted to laugh. John's face was so easy to read at times. She immediately sought to ease his apprehension. 'I have begun volunteering at a school for poor children in the district and I am quite taken with them. Indeed I think I have fallen in love with each and every one of them.'

Yes, it is possible to love her more thought John.

They continued on to the breakfast in congenial conversation. Margaret talked of her work in the school and shared amusing stories about the children. John listened intently and laughed heartily. He relished their lighthearted banter and was fascinated by this new level of friendship that Margaret seemed to be extending.

Margaret too found their connection pleasing. If only we had been able to overcome our differences earlier, she thought. If only we had understood each other better, sooner. If only….

With her right arm folded in the crook of John's, Margaret squeezed his forearm gently to signal the end of their walk. Looking up at him she gave him a dazzling smile before preceding him into the Square family home.

John watched her go, already feeling bereft of her presence. He breathed a sigh. Never had he found a woman so beguiling. Never was he likely to again, he added to himself regretfully.

**Once inside the house, Margaret joined the ladies who had congregated around Mary chatting excitedly about the plans for her wedding holiday.

While standing talking business and politics with the men, John couldn't help but glance over at Margaret from time to time. In the full bloom of her youth, she was an extraordinary beauty. Margaret was not yet conscious of her effect on others, particularly men. In John's eyes, her modesty only added to her other perfections.

His thoughts returned to his impossible situation. He would move heaven and earth to improve his condition enough to be able to renew his offer to Margaret. He just prayed to God that he was able to do it before Margaret made some other, more worthy gentleman, the happiest of all men.

**Margaret waved goodbye to the bride and groom amidst joyous laughter and well wishes from the guests. She said a silent prayer of thanks for her friend's happiness.

As Margaret turned to return to the house John appeared in front of her.

'Miss Hale, would I ask too much…would you permit me to escort you back to your lodging?' Still exhilarated from their time together this morning, John was eager to spend more time alone with Margaret. He also had something important he wanted to tell her.

Margaret laughed lightheartedly at Mr Thornton's almost youthful zeal. 'No you would not be asking too much sir, and yes you may.'

After bidding their hosts farewell, and sharing fond sentiments with Nicholas, Margaret and John walked arm and arm again.

'It was a lovely wedding. I am confident that Mary and Hugh will be happy,' John said as he raised his eyes to the grey sky that now seemed to threaten rain.

'Yes. Not only has Mary gained a husband, but In think in Hugh's mother she may perhaps find the maternal figure she has always longed for as well.' Margaret thought about the good-natured Mrs Square and nodded. 'Yes I think it is a very good match for Mary.' Margaret was reluctant to change the lightness of the mood, but had some nagging questions she wanted answered. She was not sure how many more occasions she would have to ask them.

'Nicholas told me that you have closed the mill.' Margaret looked at John to gauge his willingness to tell her more. He nodded, a look of defeat darkening his expression.

Margaret slowed her step and turned to look at John, yearning for him to share his burdens with her. 'John, I know you to be one of the most intelligent and discerning businessmen in Milton. I realise that the strike disrupted your business, but what happened to make your situation so irrecoverable?'

John resumed their paces and held Margaret's arm closely to his person. He took a selfish moment to delight in the intimacy of her use of his given name, before beginning to answer her question.

_He reviewed his position as a Milton manufacturer. The strike a year and a half ago,or more, for it was now untimely wintry weather, in a late spring,—that strike, when he was young, and he now was old—had prevented his completing some of the large orders he had then on hand. He had locked up a good deal of his capital in new and expensive machinery, and he had also bought cotton largely, for the fulfillment of these orders, taken under contract. That he had not been able to complete them, was owing in some degree to the utter want of skill on the part of the Irish hands whom he had imported; much of their work was damaged and unfit to be sent forth by a house which prided itself on turning out nothing but first-rate articles…._

_But now had come one of those periods of bad trade, when the market falling brought down the value of all large stocks; Mr. Thornton's fell to nearly half. No orders were coming in; so he lost the interest of the capital he had locked up in machinery; indeed, it was difficult to get payment for the orders completed; yet there was the constant drain of expenses for working the business. Then the bills became due for the cotton he had purchased; and money being scarce, he could only borrow at exorbitant interest, and yet he could not realise any of his property._

Margaret listened, grateful for his explanation. She felt his grip tighten on her arm, almost as if he was trying to hold on to the remnants of a life that had been torn from him by bad luck and consequence.

They walked in silent communion until they reached the inn. It was lightly raining now. John seemed to be wrestling with how to part ways.

'Well Mr Thornton,' Margaret was teasing in her return to formality, 'seeing as I will be staying on in Milton for a short while, do you think it likely that our paths may cross before Mary returns?'

John's discomfort visibly increased at her question. Margaret could tell that he needed to say something. Something that he thought would be disagreeable to her.

Surely there was nothing that could be bleaker than the words he spoke at the station at Helstone, thought Margaret. He must know by now that she would hear whatever he needed to tell her.

Margaret decided to help him. 'John, you have always appreciated my forthright nature and tolerated my frankness with equanimity. Please allow me to offer you the same liberties. Tell me directly what it is that you are struggling with?'

John looked away. Inhaling deeply, he turned back to Margaret and announced in an impassioned voice, 'I am going to America, Margaret. I sail tomorrow.'

* * *

(_Now come on, you didn't really think I was going to make this easy for them did you? It is Margaret and JT we're talking about! The good news is I have finished the story - I know how irritating it is to sit for months waiting for updates. I should be able to start uploading new chapters fairly quickly now. I think there will be 13 in total. I just need to finish editing. Thanks for the messages and reviews. I am a bit of a North and South tragic myself so I appreciate how passionate everyone is about these characters. I hope you like my version of events. XXPrincess Josephine)_


	7. Chapter 7

'You're what?' The words were out of Margaret's mouth before she could stop them.

'I'm going to America, Margaret. I have been made an offer by a New England Mill.' John became worried for Margaret's welfare as he watched her normally rosy complexion go pale.

Margaret thought she could actually detect the blood leave her face and she began to feel dizzy. She needed to sit down. She turned away and walked into the parlor of the inn, unable to apprehend what he had just told her.

John joined her at the other end of a settee. He waited for her to speak.

It was some time before Margaret looked up. 'How did this come about? Who?'

'As I was finalising the closure of the mill I received a visit from a wealthy American man – Mr Adams from Boston. He had heard from a mutual acquaintance about my..unfortunate luck. He was very interested in my _experiments_ with the hands.' John observed Margaret before he continued. 'I was quite impressed by him Margaret. He seems a very forward thinking man, open to innovation and ideas. He is prosperous to be sure, but I think he lives his life with greater purpose than to make money. I truly believe he wants to be instrumental in changing society for the better. He would like to turn his mill into a model of modern work practice.'

Not withstanding the personal sacrifice he would bear by taking this opportunity, John could not help but feel motivated by the prospect of sharing ideas and being useful again. 'He wants me to consult to his business. To tutor his management, and his employees. He is giving me authority to make changes to improve the quality of life for workers so long as it achieves increases in productivity and output for the Mill.

Margaret perceived the irony of her situation. He was going out into the world to do what she had always urged him to. 'But America.. so far. Is there nowhere here in England that you could be afforded the same opportunity?

'It it is a difficult time, for the whole industry Margaret. Mr Hamper did offer me a partnership…

_Mr. Hamper would have been only too glad to have secured him as a steady and experienced partner for his son, whom he was setting up with a large capital in a neighbouring town; but the young man was half-educated as regarded information, and wholly uneducated as regarded any other responsibility than that of getting money, and brutalised both as to his pleasures and his pains. Mr. Thornton declined having any share in a partnership, which would frustrate what few plans he had that survived the wreck of his fortunes._

_He would sooner consent to be only a manager, where he could have a certain degree of power beyond the mere money-getting part, than have to fall in with the tyrannical humours of a moneyed partner with whom he felt sure that he should quarrel in a few months._

'No, you are right,' Margaret said, shaking her head. Say no more of Hamper, for I know of his character through Nicholas. I would sooner you went to New England than compromise your good name partnering with the likes of him.'

'Mr Adams has offered me a substantial sum. More than I can refuse. I am sure within a year or two I will be able to implement such changes that he will see the returns.' Even to John this sounded a long time.

'A year or two', Margaret mouthed the words. She was almost unable to utter a sound as she contemplated it. Her mind was teeming with questions. 'What is to become of your mother? – of course she will stay with Fanny. Does Nicholas know?' Margaret knew there would be others that would feel his absence.

John answered in a sympathetic tone, 'yes he does. I asked him not to tell anyone. I asked him not to tell you.' Margaret nodded, acknowledging that this was news she preferred to hear directly from John.

'Well it would seem that all is settled.' Margaret felt like she was on the platform at Helstone all over again. 'I suppose I should wish you well.'

'Margaret, I…'

'Please John.' Margaret held up her hand to halt his entreaty. She straightened her back and faced him. 'I comprehend the situation, and I promise I am reconciled to it. I do not wish to cause you trouble or angst. You are free to make choices without reference to me or anyone else. I know we are not.. well I know we do not have an understanding.'

She was doing her best to make this easier for him, he could see that. But her brave face and perceptive words only served to intensify his regret and frustration. 'Margaret, this post will help my situation but it will not resolve it. I cannot ask you to wait for me.' As sorely as I am tempted, he thought. He wanted to reach out to her. To hold her, and comfort her. To beg her to wait for him. But if he truly loved her he would do none of these things. He would let her go to make her own way in life. Yet, just thinking of Margaret marrying anyone else was unbearable…

Though oceans may separate them, and Margaret may in time find another love, John knew that he would never be inconstant. _He had known what love was—a sharp pang, a fierce experience, in the midst of whose flames he was struggling! but, through that furnace he would fight his way out into the serenity of middle age,—all the richer and more human for having known this great passion._

'John, I am content. Please do not distress yourself. I would not ask you to be any less than you are.' However unhappy I may be, Margaret silently added. 'We shall part friends.' Margaret mustered as much good cheer as she could and smiled as she extended her hand to shake John's. 'Just promise me one thing Mr Thornton.' Their hands lingered for a time.

At the brightening of her mood, John allowed himself a small grin. 'Anything Miss Hale.'

'Please don't go to America forever.'


	8. Chapter 8

Margaret wrote to Mr Bell that evening to ask him if he would come to Milton to escort her and Dixon home. She was to have travelled with Hugh and Mary as far as London when they left on their wedding holiday, however with her visit to Milton now extended to assist Nicholas with the children, she needed to find a new travelling companion. Margaret herself would have been happy to travel alone but she knew that Aunt Shaw would disapprove.

In truth, writing to Mr Bell was a welcome distraction. She was comforted by the thought of having his almost fatherly presence to look forward to at the end of the week.

Dixon was less than pleased at being made to stay longer in this smoky northern climate. Margaret could sense this in the manner she was brusquely packing their few items for the relocation to the Squares.

Dixon could see that Margaret had been crying. She had heard from servants at the inn that Miss Margaret had been escorted back from the wedding by the former Master of Marlborough Mills. They also observed that the Master and Miss had spent time alone in the parlor. Dixon knew that Margaret would get angry with her for asking, but she felt it her duty to protect Margaret, just as her mother would have.

'Miss Margaret,' Dixon started as she was helping Margaret prepare for bed, 'I know you may consider me impertinent, but do you think it is wise to be keeping company with someone in Mr Thornton's situation? I know he was a good friend of your fathers…'

'Do not have any fear on that account Dixon. Mr Thornton sails for America tomorrow. There is no attachment between us. I am not likely to see him for some time.' Margaret said these words with more impartiality than she felt.

Dixon frowned, that would explain Miss Margaret's sad face. But still, it was for the best. There were plenty of young eligible London men that would be more befitting a daughter of a Beresford lady.

Margaret did not see John again before he sailed. The week with the Boucher children gave Margaret a new appreciation for the role Mary played in their lives. They commandeered so much of her time that it was difficult to fit everything she needed to do for them into one day. Each morning she would walk to Nicholas' home just after dawn, then return home to the Squares at dusk, exhausted but pleased with her contribution. The Squares were very accommodating, and cheerily wished her goodnight as she retired early each evening after supper.

With the relentless pace of caring for six children from daylight to dusk, Margaret gratefully escaped her own thoughts and succumbed to a deep and sound sleep each evening.

The day before Mary and Hugh were due to return from their wedding holiday, Margaret was walking back from the Higginses when a distressed Dixon ran out into the street. Margaret called to her to get her attention, impatient to find out what had caused her present condition.

Dixon, for once was quite lost for words and thrust a telegram she was holding into Margaret's hands.

'Dixon, what is the matter?' she asked, opening the telegram.

'It's Mr Bell Miss. He's dead.'

For the third time, Margaret donned her mourning clothes. Under the circumstances, Margaret had felt it best to return to London as soon as possible. Nicholas arranged for the children to go into the care of a neighbor and Mr and Mrs Square said farewell to Dixon and Margaret early the following morning. Margaret felt sure that Aunt Shaw could not object to them travelling without an escort in a case such as this.

***Back in London, Margaret sat vacantly looking out onto Harley Street. Some fellows at Oxford would be arranging Mr Bell's funeral. As it was not customary for women to be present, Margaret would not be attending. She did not have the energy to argue.

Alone in her room she _could cry at leisure, and bethink her of this fatal year, and all the woes it had brought to her. No sooner was she fully aware of one loss than another came—not to supersede her grief for the one before, but to re- open wounds and feelings scarcely healed. _

Add to this her disappointment at being deprived of a great love by fate and circumstance; she could feel herself in danger. At some point Margaret knew she must make a choice. Either she allow herself to descend into a deep and dark oblivion or she could raise her face into the sun and fight on.

_On some such night as this she remembered promising to herself to live as brave and noble a life as any heroine she ever read or heard of in romance._

After 3 weeks in mourning for her beloved Godfather, Mr Bell, Margaret gradually returned to working at the school. Victoria was glad to have Margaret back but could see that her young friend was distracted. She wondered whether the recent death of her Godfather was the only thing troubling Margaret.

Never one to sit idle, Margaret felt her daily routine was her saving grace. Victoria's unfailing commitment to her school was a constant source of inspiration to Margaret. It fuelled her resolve to live her life for the greater good. She took comfort in knowing her father would have been proud of her determination and courage, even if her mother would not have understood it.

About a month after Mr Bell's death, a letter was delivered to Harley Street. It was a note from Mr Bell's Lawyer requesting that Miss Margaret Hale attend his office with her legal adviser on Tuesday at 11 o'clock. The topic to be discussed was the settlement of Mr Bell's will.

As Henry was coming to dine with them tonight at Harley Street, Margaret thought she would ask him whether he would be happy to attend the meeting with her as her lawyer. Despite the complications of their past, Margaret trusted Henry and knew that he was quite clever and honorable, in his own way.

Margaret understood Mr Bell to be a man of extensive property. He was renowned for owning many buildings in Milton. It was curious that she would have a part to play in executing his will. Surely he had distant family that would be better qualified to address such things.

Perhaps the meeting would answer the question of Margaret's board money. Margaret was sensible to the fact that now Mr Bell was dead, the payment to Aunt Shaw had ceased. She now relied solely on the generosity of her Aunt for her current lifestyle. Margaret was sure that this would place additional pressure on her to make a suitable match.

Margaret wondered if Mr Bell had made a provision for her in his will. After all, he had always looked out for her since her parents' deaths.

***On Tuesday morning, Henry collected Margaret from Harley Street. He regarded her with admiration as she stepped onto the street. Margaret was never one to pander to fashion - Edith selected most of her wardrobe for her anyway. She wore conservative styles, and had no desire to be conspicuous. Many girls in London regarded their dress as a symbol of wealth and standing, the more conspicuous (and sometimes ridiculous) the better. He liked this practical side of Margaret. Her manner of dress was entirely appropriate for the wife of a respected lawyer he thought with self-satisfaction.

As Margaret and Henry entered Mr Bell's lawyer's office, they were greeted with surprising attentiveness. It seemed to Henry that Margaret's presence was highly regarded by those that knew what Mr Bell's last wishes were. His instinct told him that the news they were about to receive would significantly change Margaret's life. In fact, Henry wondered whether Margaret would soon be a lady of great means.


	9. Chapter 9

Margaret was dazed as she and Henry made the journey back to Harley Street. To think that Mr Bell had left her everything. She had been named _residuary legatee—the legacies being about two thousand pounds, and the remainder about forty thousand, at the present value of property in Milton_.

'Henry, I am ill-equipped for this kind of responsibility. Tenants, leases, speculations. How am I ever to..'

Henry turned to Margaret. 'Margaret, if you are agreeable, I would be honoured to be of service to you in the management of your finances. I am sure that we will be able to make arrangements thus that you will rarely need to worry yourself with any of your affairs.' Indeed, the partners of his law firm would welcome securing all of Miss Hale's business. Perhaps shortly he may be asked to join their ranks.

'Thank you Henry, my mind would rest easier knowing that my finances are in capable hands.' Henry bowed his head in servitude before Margaret continued, 'only I should like you to educate me about them further over time. I do not always wish to live in my present state of ignorance.'

'Of course Margaret.' Henry silently cursed Margaret's continued insistence on exerting her independence. But he had to admit he found it very appealing that such lessons would give him a legitimate excuse for spending time alone in the company of the attractive young heiress.

Over the following three months, Margaret met with Henry on a weekly basis to learn more about her inheritance. Henry observed that for a woman, Margaret seemed to have a natural aptitude for figures and financial principles.

_He was never so happy as when teaching her of what all these mysteries of the law were the signs and types…_

_From this time the clever and ambitious man bent all his powers to gaining Margaret. He loved her sweet beauty. He saw the latent sweep of her mind, which could easily (he thought) be led to embrace all the objects on which he had set his heart. He looked upon her fortune only as a part of the complete and superb character of herself and her position: yet he was fully aware of the rise which it would immediately enable him, the poor barrister, to take._

_Eventually he would earn such success, and such honours, as would enable him to pay her back, with interest, that first advance in wealth which he should owe to her. He had been to Milton on business connected with her property, on his return from Scotland; and with the quick eye of a skilled lawyer, ready ever to take in and weigh contingencies, he had seen that much additional value was yearly accruing to the lands and tenements which she owned in that prosperous and increasing town._

_He was glad to find that the present relationship between Margaret and himself, of client and legal adviser, was gradually superseding the recollection of that unlucky, mismanaged day at Helstone. He had thus unusual opportunities of intimate intercourse with her, besides those that arose from the connection between the families._

_The family conclave, which was made up of Edith, her mother, and her husband, … kept her out of the way of other friends who might have eligible sons or brothers; and it was also agreed that she never seemed to take much pleasure in the society of any one but Henry, out of their own family. The other admirers, attracted by her appearance or the reputation of her fortune, were swept away, by her unconscious smiling disdain, into the paths frequented by other beauties less fastidious, or other heiresses with a larger amount of gold. Henry and she grew slowly into closer intimacy; but neither he nor she were people to brook the slightest notice of their proceedings._

Margaret was indeed heedless of the schemes of her family and friends. Outside of her work at the school, her singular preoccupation was gaining a better understanding for her financial capacity. She was eager to execute on her own priorities and plans.

Her first undertaking was to try to help Frederick. Henry had started making enquiries on her behalf. Time would tell whether they could clear his name.

The next would be to convince Aunt Shaw to agree to take her to Spain in the autumn to see her brother. Margaret did not like her chances. She suspected that her aunt would be reluctant to get involved lest she get caught up in legal trouble for her connection with Fred.

The third was to set up a fund to support Victoria Barton's school. Margaret would discuss with Victoria how she would like to spend the monies. Margaret hoped she would agree to install an assistant teacher to provide her relief.

The final, most important and yet perplexing matter for Margaret was how to offer the rest of her new-found fortune to the proud Mr Thornton and secure her own happiness. After her lessons with Henry she was now entirely sure that her assets would be more than enough to afford them a very comfortable life for all their days. Margaret knew however that John's fierce and insufferable pride would never allow him to make an offer on those terms. He would never agree to living his days as a Gentleman. Nor would he tolerate well the inevitable insinuation that he only married Miss Hale for her money after having failed dismally in his own enterprise.

Oh John, how you infuriate me at times! Margaret lamented. Stubborn, proud, independent, (a secret smile now formed on Margaret's lips)…talented, handsome, wise, wonderful John. Dreamily she imagined him in America as she had seen him on occasion at Milton. Walking the mill, sleeves rolled up, focused and in his realm. She was sure that if Mr Adams kept to his promise and allowed him the authority and control, that John would enjoy success and that Mr Adams would reap the benefits.

Margaret would wait, forever if need be. She had to wait. No one else in her acquaintance even came close to her heart. It was his and always would be his.

Mr Bell, with his bequeath to Margaret, had given her freedom. He had given her the advantage of choice. She could now live as a respectable spinster if she wanted to, no longer reliant on a marriage bed to raise her fortunes. For that Margaret was eternally grateful.

One afternoon a visibly excited Henry Lennox came to tea with Margaret and Aunt Shaw. 'You have benefited from a very lucky gamble of Mr Bell's, Margaret.'

'Have I? What have I won?' Margaret jested.

Henry ignored her and continued as he poured himself a cup of tea. 'Before he died, he had invested in a daring scheme with a Mr Watson from Milton.'

'Fanny Thornton's husband?' Margaret was surprised. She did not think that Mr Watson could be considered so wise and far-seeing as to be successful in a risky venture.

'The very one. News has swept through the exchange of the enormous fortune the Watsons have amassed. Of course, I'm sure it will only be a nine days' wonder,' Henry sniggered. 'But you have done very nicely from it Margaret.' Henry placed a sheet of figures in front of Margaret, showing her what she had made.

Aunt Shaw listened on with great interest, marveling at the turnaround in Margaret's prosperity. Yes, Henry would do well to make an offer to Margaret sooner rather than later, she thought.

Whilst excitedly delivering the news of Margaret's windfall, Henry quietly congratulated himself on his choice of future bride. Whilst he had always been attracted to Margaret, her new financial position now made her an irresistible prospect. Now he need only find the right time to win her.

Margaret, oblivious to the musings of her two companions, scrutinised the numbers Henry had given her, a new plan formulating in her mind. As soon as tea was over, Margaret hastily sought the sanctuary of her room. She had made a decision this afternoon and needed some solitude to take action.

It was time to write to John in America.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been exactly sixty days since Margaret had penned her letter to John. It would have been improper for her to write everything that was in her heart and beg his immediate return. So instead she had laid out the facts of her inheritance, her plans for investment, and prayed that John would interpret her information correctly and understand her wishes.

Each day as the mail arrived brought fresh disappointment. Each day Margaret checked for word from John, but there was none.

Anxieties began to creep into Margaret's mind. Maybe he had found a new life in New England? Maybe time and distance had given him new perspective? Now that Fanny and Watson were so rich, he could be assured that his mother was well taken care of. He could start afresh if he wished. Maybe she was entirely mistaken in the strength of his affection for her?

It was on one morning as Margaret was leaving for the school that a telegram arrived for her. Intrigued, Margaret delayed her departure to sit and read the message. Nothing could have prepared her for the words to come.

John is gravely ill. You must come to Milton. Hannah Thornton.

It took no more than a heartbeat for Margaret to be on her feet. Running upstairs she was mentally calculating how long it would take her to get to Milton, providing she made this morning's train.

Margaret hurried past Dixon in the hall on the way to her room. 'Dixon, have the carriage readied for me, immediately!'

As she was in the middle of throwing some essential items together into a travel case, Dixon appeared at her door.

'Miss Margaret, what is the matter? What are you doing?' Dixon was now starting to worry about Margaret's state of mind.

'I am going to Milton, today.' Margaret completed a mental check of her belongings before leaving her room.

'But who will go with you?' Miss Edith is due any day now so neither Mr Lennox nor I can be spared. Why don't you send a note to Mr Henry Lennox if the matter is so urgent? I am sure he would oblige you.'

'I do not have time to wait for Henry, Dixon. I must go now.'

Dixon, disturbed by the lack of concern for propriety being shown by this headstrong girl pleaded 'But what about your Aunt Shaw? She will not be happy about this Miss Margaret. Think about her; think about all she has done for you?

Margaret, exasperated by the older woman's interference exclaimed 'I have done nothing but think of Aunt Shaw and everyone else. For once in my life I am going to think of me!' And with that Margaret stormed from the house.

**Now alone in her first class carriage, Margaret was finally able to think. There were so many questions but so few answers. John was gravely ill. What was wrong with him? Why was he back? And when did he return?

All she could be certain of was that John's condition must be very serious indeed to have driven his mother to appeal to Margaret to come to Milton. It was Mrs Thornton's actions that gave her the most cause for concern.

Margaret felt nauseated. Taking deep breaths she closed her eyes and tried to let the sound of the train sooth her. Getting lost in its rhythm she rest her head against the window, wrapping her arms around her waist. She willed the train on, unable to bring herself to even consider that she could be too late.

**As the train slowed to a stop at Milton station, Margaret prayed that a cab would be waiting ready to take her to John. She would go to the home of Fanny Watson first. At least there she may be redirected. Mrs Thornton had given her so few details to go by.

As Margaret descended the stairs to the nearby street, the familiar form of Hannah Thornton stepped into her path. 'Miss Hale, I have a carriage waiting.'

Completely taken aback by her sudden appearance, Margaret followed Mrs Thornton into the coach.

As they sat, Margaret noted that her usual _frost-bound expression _had been replaced with a despondency that implied resignation and…hopelessness. Margaret waited for Mrs Thorton to speak.

'You have packed light,' Mrs Thornton observed. 'We shall see to it that you can borrow some of Fanny's clothes while you are with us. You shall stay as my guest of course.'

'Thankyou, Mrs Thornton. I had not the time nor the inclination to concern myself with packing when I received your telegram.' Margaret impatient for news of John now entreated, 'Mrs Thornton, I can go no longer, please tell me of John, what is his condition?' Margaret's voice shook with the wave of emotion that threatened her self-possession.

Mrs Thornton looked out of the window, as if to avoid looking at Margaret. 'His vessel arrived five days ago. There had been an outbreak of ship fever. John tried to help those he could during the voyage but many perished.' A single tear was hurriedly brushed away from Mrs Thornton's cheek before she continued. 'The rash appeared two days before they docked. John knew then it was only a matter of time before he fell ill. He arrived in time to collapse into my arms.' Her tears were flowing now.

Mrs Thornton took a moment to gather herself. Margaret instinctively reached out and placed her hand on Mrs Thornton's arm. Margaret felt her stiffen at the touch so withdrew her hand slowly.

'He has spent much of the last three days thrashing about with fever and pain. In between he rests in fitful sleep. Dr Donaldson visits daily and has applied leaches and bled John. His condition has not improved.'

Margaret tried to imagine John lying weak, robbed of all vitality. It was unthinkable. 'How did you know.. why did you decide to send for me?' Margaret needed to understand Mrs Thornton's motive, though heaven knew she was glad to be here.

'He has had a few lucid moments in these days.' Mrs Thornton now looked directly at Margaret and said stiffly,'He asked for you, repeatedly. I thought at first it was the fever speaking but his eyes were earnest. I knew it was his true wish.' Mrs Thornton averted her gaze again, uncomfortable with the conversation.

It was now Margaret's turn to shed a tear. Any joy or relief she felt in being asked to be by his side was swiftly quashed by the fear and sorrow that was beginning to engulf her.

'You knew I would be on today's train?' Margaret enquired, curious that Mrs Thornton would come to meet her.

'When I left John, he was sleeping. I needed an occupation to stay my mind from the worst of thoughts, so brought the carriage to collect you.' Hannah allowed herself a moment from her grief to form a derisive smirk. 'I suspected that if the attachment between you was real, nothing would stop the spirited Miss Hale from breaking all rules of propriety and rushing to Milton.'

Margaret, knowing that Mrs Thornton was not one for outward displays of emotion, did her best to convey the profoundness of her gratitude. 'Thank you, Mrs Thornton.'

Hannah nodded, and continued to look out of the window.

The carriage took them to a very affluent part of Milton, where only the best families lived. Watson and Fanny had moved into a larger home with extensive grounds, no doubt befitting their elevation into the ranks of Milton's wealthiest residents.

Margaret followed Mrs Thornton to the door, which had been opened by a housekeeper at the arrival of the coach. As she was ushered into the cloakroom to remove her hat and gloves, a manservant took her bag. Fanny arrived presently to greet Margaret.

'Miss Hale, welcome to our home. It is lovely to see you again. Perhaps finally I shall be able to show you my Indian wallpapers….'

Fanny had hardly finished her sentence when Mrs Thornton scolded her for her insensitivity at such a time. 'Margaret has no mind for your decorations Fanny. She is here to give comfort to your brother in his time of need. Honestly!'

Fanny pouted as her mother strode up the stairs with Margaret closely in tow.


	11. Chapter 11

Margaret entered the darkened room and saw the outline of John's form lying languid in the bed. He was asleep, though his brow was covered in beads of perspiration and his nightshirt was damp, sticking to his chest. He had grown a beard during his voyage.

Without thought or concern about his present state of undress, Margaret sat in the chair beside the bed. She reached out, tentatively at first, but with an approving glance from Mrs Thornton, took John's usually strong hands in her own.

Feeling like she had achieved her purpose, Mrs Thornton left the room. Margaret was their best hope she thought to herself. Perhaps the girl will be enough incentive to pull him through.

Meanwhile Margaret looked on at the man she loved. Her heart ached as she ran a trembling hand down his face. Margaret spoke softly, not sure whether John could hear her. 'Do not leave me now, my love. Not now when it is finally possible for us to be together.' She slowly lowered her face and pressed her lips to his, her tears spilling on to his cheeks. Margaret lay her head on his arm her body finally racking with sobs that she had held at bay since this morning. 'I love you John. Please be strong, please fight. Fight for me John.'

How long she stayed like that she knew not, but she was eventually stirred by a small and weak whisper. 'You are here.'

Margaret looked up and could see that John barely had the strength to open his eyes. She took his hand again and kissed it. She thought that she saw the beginning of a smile but it was soon lost as he again drifted into unconsciousness.

Later on there was a faint knock on the door, and Mrs Thornton appeared. 'How is he? Has there been any change since I left you?' Signs of fatigue and worry were etched in her face as she began to light candles in the room.

'He woke only for a moment. Long enough to realise I was here.' Margaret gazed at John's face, willing him to overcome this.

Mrs Thornton stood by the bed and touched John's forehead with the back of her hand. 'He is still feverish. I will call Watson's manservant to change the linen and John's nightclothes. Perhaps you would like to join Fanny for supper while this is happening.'

Margaret nodded her assent. She had not eaten since breakfast. She would do her best to take something to keep up her strength – for John.

Descending the grand staircase of Fanny and Watson's home, Margaret cast a critical eye over the ornamental style in which it was decorated. Every available surface was filled with objects made of expensive porcelains, sterling silver, china and crystal. Drapes and exotic wood furnishings were finished in opulent fabrics accompanied by oriental rugs over parquet hardwood floors. Fanny had already commissioned a portrait of herself, which hung proudly in the parlor.

Whilst Margaret herself would prefer a less fashionable, homier feel, she recognised the effort that Fanny had put into her décor, and knew for her it was the ultimate symbol of newfound wealth and success in marriage.

As Margaret joined Fanny at the dinner table she remarked, 'You have a beautiful home Mrs Watson.'

'Thank you Miss Hale. Mama says it too showy, but I am proud of it. I think it befits my Mr Watson and shows to the world how rich he is since his speculation was such a success. I am sure John is quite jealous and disappointed that he did not take part.'

Margaret was astounded at the girl's lack of sensitivity to her brother, especially when he could be lying dying upstairs in her very own house. Holding back her anger, Margaret calmly changed the subject. 'Mrs Watson, did John say why he had returned from America so early? I understood from him that he was to stay a whole year, maybe two.' This question had plagued Margaret since she heard that he was back in Milton.

'Why, Miss Hale? Because Watson asked him to.' Fanny gave a smile of smug self-satisfaction. 'I have convinced Watson to step back from the daily running of his mill, now that he can afford to live the life of a gentleman. I tried to convince him to move to London but..well, maybe one day. Oh, London. I have been to London, as you know Miss Hale, but I have not yet seen the Al Hambra…

'You say you asked Mr Thornton to return. But why?' Margaret had her suspicions but thought it best to have them confirmed by Fanny.

'So that he can run the mill for Watson. John has come back to discuss the terms of their agreement. I am sure once he is well that it will all be ironed out and Watson can spend his days in more leisurely pursuits.'

Margaret was surprised by Fanny's absolute belief that John would recover from this sickness. Perhaps it was because she was so young when her father died. She had never really faced the death of someone she loved. Margaret prayed that Fanny's faith would be realised.

'Was John unhappy in America?' As an honorable man, Margaret found it hard to imagine that John would ever leave Mr Adams without sufficient notice or until the job was complete.

'I do not think so. In fact the tone of his letters to Mama was sanguine. He seemed as if he had a high respect for Mr Adams and enjoyed the work immensely. I just think Mr Watson's offer was too good to refuse.' Fanny clearly enjoyed that her husband could so easily influence John to do his bidding.

Still it made sense that John would want to return to Milton. This was his home.

Just then the housekeeper Mrs Bromley appeared, 'Excuse me madam; Dr Donaldson is here for his visit with Mr Thornton. Shall I send him up?'

'I will see him upstairs Mrs Bromley.' It was Mrs Thornton that spoke, having just joined them in the dining room.

After supper, Margaret decided to take refuge in the library until she was able to sit with John again. Looking through the shelves she found a collection of poems that she thought would provide her comfort. She leafed through the book until she found what she was looking for.

Margaret left the library just as Mrs Thornton was seeing Dr Donaldson to the door. 'Mrs Thornton, Mr Thornton's condition has not changed, either for the worse, or for the better. His pulse is still fast and his breathing labored. It is important that you continue to urge him to take fluids and to keep him as comfortable as possible. If his fever worsens, call for me. I am at your service.'

As he turned to leave Mrs Thornton spoke. 'Thank you for your kindness Dr Donaldson. I just wanted to ask, in cases such as these, how long will it be until we know whether he will.. pull through?'

'I think we will know soon Mrs Thornton. These sicknesses normally go one way or the other within 10 days. I think we will know very soon.'

A feeling of dread passed over Margaret as she considered Dr Donaldson's prediction. That she could lose John within two days was not something that Margaret was yet prepared to consider.


	12. Chapter 12

When Mrs Thornton turned to go back up the stairs, she saw that Margaret had overheard her conversation with Dr Donaldson.

'Do not hide around corners Miss Hale, and do not look so forlorn. My son is made of tougher stuff than other men you may have known. He will pull through. There is no other acceptable alternative.' Mrs Thornton proceeded back upstairs and Margaret followed.

Mrs Thornton had Fanny's manservant bring an extra chair into John's room. Now seated across from each other on either side of John's bed, Mrs Thornton spoke'.

'I confess Miss Hale, I thought we had seen the last of you when you went to London. And then, when John decided to go to America, the possibility of his ever uniting with you seemed so remote that it almost left my mind altogether.' Margaret winced at Mrs Thornton's brutal honesty.

Mrs Thornton continued. 'Seeing a son go to the brink of death does things to a mother. It makes her swallow her pride and beg for things that she never thought she would have to. I would do anything to give John life. I begged you to come Miss Hale. I would beg the devil himself if it would help.' Margaret was not so sure that she and devil were not one in the same in the eyes of Mrs Thornton. 'Miss Hale, excuse my candor, but I believe in the circumstances I have a right to know. What exactly is the status of your relationship with my son?'

Margaret looked at John now. Still sleeping uneasily, she could almost see him at war with the illness that had invaded his body. 'I would forgive you anything right now Mrs Thornton. You have granted me permission to be here for John. I owe you a debt of gratitude.' Margaret blinked away tears that were beginning to form in her eyes. 'We have no formal understanding. But I do believe with every fibre of my being that your son still loves me, as much as I love him.'

'Love him, but you rejected him. You cast him aside like he was not worthy of you. You the daughter of a country parson!' Mrs Thornton huffed in incredulity.

Margaret nodded. 'I understand it is hard for you to believe what I am saying. You once accused me of not knowing the worth of your son, and you were right. I did not know him then. But I have come to know him, and I want to reassure you that I think him the best man I have ever known. If John survives..if he still wants me, I am going to do everything in my power to make him happy.'

At that moment John started to cough and shudder. Mrs Thornton stood up and brought a cool cloth to John's brow. Margaret took hold of his hand and prayed for him to stay with them, pleading for him to fight on.

As his seizures eased, Mrs Thornton returned to her seat and picked up some sewing she had brought in earlier. Glancing at Margaret she suggested that the younger woman might want to be shown to her room to get some sleep.

Margaret eyed Mrs Thornton hesitantly. 'What about you Mrs Thornton? You must be tired. No doubt you have not had a peaceful sleep these past three nights. Do you not wish to go to bed?'

'No, I will be staying right here until I know he is out of danger,' replied a staunch Mrs Thornton.

'Well I think I would prefer to stay too, if you don't mind. I will rest easiest being by his side.' Margaret lifted her chin ready to defy Mrs Thornton.

'Do as you please, Miss Hale. I'm sure I could not make you do otherwise.' Mrs Thornton began to unpick some stitches she was unhappy with.

In the spirit of frankness, Margaret decided to confess more to her would-be mother-in-law. 'Mrs Thornton, I understand from Fanny that Mr Watson has offered John the opportunity to run his mill. I believe this is why he returned early from America?'

Still looking down at her sewing, Mrs Thorton responded, 'yes Miss Hale, he has. Although they are yet to work out the details.'

'Do you think this is a good plan for John? I mean, do you think John will be happy working for Mr Watson?' Margaret thought Mrs Thornton would be against the idea but she wanted to hear the older woman's opinion for herself.

'I would have thought that with you so much in love with my son that you would think it a good idea Miss Hale. This opportunity will allow you to marry won't it?' Mrs Thornton's tone was harsh.

'Do you think I am the reason John has cut his time short in America?' Margaret asked matter of factly. 'Are you saying that you think he is perhaps rushing into an arrangement with Mr Watson just to secure my hand?'

'Yes I do. I think it is entirely possible that his attachment to you has clouded his judgment and that he is in danger of making a very foolish decision with regards to his future.' Mrs Thornton had ceased her sewing and was holding her gaze firm to Margaret.

Margaret had to respect this lady's unfailing commitment to John. She was quite the proverbial lioness when it came to matters of his welfare. 'I agree whole-heartedly with you Mrs Thornton.' Margaret saw that Mrs Thornton looked stunned. Clearly this was not the response she was expecting to hear. 'Which is why I would like you to hear me out on a very different future I see for John.'

Mrs Thornton seemed skeptical but agreed to listen to Margaret. 'Astound me Miss Hale with your superior plan.'

Undeterred by Mrs Thornton's belligerent manner, Margaret proceeded to explain that she had recently inherited Mr Bell's estate and how with the benefit of additional funds from Watson's speculation now had the means to help John re-establish his own mill. As Margaret finished her account, she began to feel anxious about Mrs Thornton's reaction.

Mrs Thornton considered Margaret for a moment and then looked at her son lying in the bed so desperately ill. 'John knows nothing of this?'

Margaret shook her head. 'I do not think so, well I do not know for sure. I wrote to him in America but my letter may not have arrived in time for him to see it.'

Mrs Thornton gave the girl a cursory glance and returned to her sewing. Well if John makes it through this, she thought, and this girl is to be my daughter-in-law, I suppose I had better get used to the idea. I expect I should be grateful that she has come to save John from Watson. But the circumstances are still far from ideal. She is so reckless and strong-willed. She will probably want a hand in the running of the business. John should not be dictated to by a pretty face just because her inherited fortune funds his business.

When Margaret next spoke, Mrs Thornton felt it was almost as if Margaret had read her thoughts. 'I would never want John to feel that his future success was only due to my money. I would never wish him to feel any self-doubt on that account. But as the law stands, if we were to marry, the money would be his to do with as he pleases. And it would please me to see him use it to re-start Marlborough Mills.'

Margaret's words gave Mrs Thornton some comfort that she at least seemed to understand John. He was a proud man, used to finding his own way. His sense of self worth was entirely founded on his ability to rise above adversity through sacrifice, talent and fortitude. Mrs Thornton imagined he would not take well to being handed success on a platter. 'When do you plan to tell him Miss Hale?'

'Not straight away, Mrs Thornton. I think it is important that he recovers from his illness first. When he is well and strong I will tell him.' Margaret wanted to wait until they had a chance to discuss their relationship. She knew it would be important for John to make an offer on his own terms, before she revealed the extent of her dowry.

'You have my discretion Miss Hale. I shall let you broach the topic with him. He will not hear it from me.'

'Thank you for your understanding, Mrs Thornton.'

Hannah Thornton nodded.

Margaret picked up the book of poems that had been in her hand when she left the library.

'Feel free to read aloud Miss Hale. I am sure this is going to be a long night for both of us.' Mrs Thornton continued her sewing.


	13. Chapter 13

The morning sunlight peeked through the small gaps between the drapes of John's room. Margaret stirred as she felt pain and stiffness in her joints; her punishment for spending a night sleeping in a chair. As the realisation of where she was and why she was there hit her, her eyes darted open towards the bed.

Sitting slightly elevated by cushions, a pair of piercing blue eyes were watching her, a small smile lighting the owner's weary and drawn face.

'John!' Margaret exclaimed in joy. Immediately Mrs Thornton awoke and was on her feet feeling John's pulse and checking his temperature. Margaret watched Mrs Thornton's face for her prognosis.

A smile of relief changed John's mother's expression. Taking a deep breath she turned to her son, and shook her head. 'You gave me such a dreadful fright my boy. Never, never do that again.' And with that the ever-practical Mrs Thornton left the room to arrange a light refreshment. She knew it would be important for John to have nourishment in order to begin rebuilding his strength now that his fever had broken.

As she closed the door, Margaret took John's hand in her own and desperately fought to hold back her tears. John frailly reached up to wipe one away and in a tender whisper said, 'Do not cry, my love. I am here now. I will be well.'

Margaret kissed his hands and laughed through her tears.

**In the days that ensued, John still spent many hours sleeping, allowing his body the time it needed to slowly recover. In his waking hours, Margaret would sit and read to him or listen with interest to his stories of New England or share her stories of Victoria and the children at her school.

Margaret had written to Aunt Shaw to beg her forgiveness for her rash behavior and promised that she would return within a fortnight. She hoped with all of her heart that her return to London would only be temporary.

Within a week of his fever breaking John was well enough to begin dressing and sitting out of bed for small periods of time. On one of these occasions, as Margaret entered his room, John let out a hearty laugh. Margaret could not help but smile at his deep amusement, although she was not sure what had prompted it.

'You look very colourful today, my Margaret.'

Margaret looked down at the dress she had borrowed from Fanny. Made of turquoise and yellow paisley fabric, it was finished off with a yellow lace collar and scarlet red bow at the breast. She supposed she did look very different to the more conventional Margaret he was used to. She chuckled, 'Yes, your sister's taste and mine are not exactly aligned. Still, her generosity has allowed me to stay with you so I do not want to hear any more complaints about my attire.'

John beckoned Margaret to join him on the settee. As she sat he took her hand and kissed it gently, lingering there for a moment longer than he should. 'You would look beautiful in anything, Margaret.'

Margaret's heart fluttered and she could feel her cheeks flush with his words. Averting her eyes she changed the subject, 'What would you like to do today John? Shall we read?' Margaret looked around for the novel she had started with him yesterday.

'No, I think I am ready to go for a short walk, if you will agree to accompany me to the garden? I could do with some fresh air. Well, as fresh as it gets in Milton.' John smirked, thinking of his visit to Helstone and the green grass, blue skies and crisp clean air of the quaint parsonage where his beloved had spent her youth.

'Perhaps I should consult your mother, or we could ask Dr Donaldson when he comes tomorrow whether it is a good idea. I do not want you to end up back where you started.' John enjoyed her cosseting and squeezed her hand.

'Do not alarm yourself my love. I am well enough to take a slow stroll. In fact I believe it will do me good. Although,' John raised his eyebrows in mischievous delight, 'I must insist that you hold on to me in case I should feel lightheaded.'

Whilst Margaret had to admit she liked this playful tendency in John, she was forever on alert in case his omnipresent mother should witness his flirtatious behaviour.

Fanny's gardens, while ostentatious like her internal décor, were nevertheless lovely. Low box hedging surrounded flowerbeds filled with contrasting bedding plants. These were organised in intricate patterns and added bright splashes of colour to the landscape. It was now the height of summer and the roses were in full bloom. Arm in arm, Margaret led John to the formal rose garden within the boundaries of the main garden where she knew there was a shaded bench for them to rest.

'How are you feeling? Do you need to go back to the house?' a worried Margaret fretted as they sat down.

'Considering what I have just survived I feel magnificent. But I will agree to sit here quietly for a time so long as you promise to stay beside me.' John reached up and brushed back a whisp of Margaret's hair that was now sweeping across her face in the breeze. 'And while we are out of the house, and away from prying ears, I think it is time that you and I talked about our future.'

Margaret's thrilled to hear his use of the words "our future". 'Go on,' said Margaret smiling coyly, 'I'm listening.'

John's throat suddenly felt dry at the magnitude of what he was about to say. 'I have not told you the reason for my sudden return from America. I received a letter from Watson. Fanny no doubt,' John rolled his eyes affectionately at the thought of his sister, '_no_ doubt, has told you that she and Watson made a good deal of money from a speculation. A speculation that ironically he had at one point tried to entice me to participate in.' John shook his head but knew it was futile to dwell on the matter.

Margaret put her hand on his arm, trying to convey in this small gesture that she understood that he had done what he thought was best.

'Anyway, Watson has decided to take a step back from the mill to spend more time with Fanny and live the life of a gentleman. In turn he has offered me the management of his mill - and I am of a mind to accept.'

John looked at Margaret. She did not seem surprised by this information. In fact her expression barely altered. Wondering at what thoughts were behind her lovely eyes, and whether she had registered the import of what he had just said, John continued. 'Margaret, this means I can be assured of a good income and will be able to provide for a family. Our family if you will have me?' Taking both of Margaret's tiny hands in his, his heart racing in fear and excitement all at once, John decided to make it plain for her. 'Margaret, oh beautiful, incomparable Margaret, will you make me the happiest of all men and agree to be my wife?' John's whole body shivered with raw emotion now as he waited for her reply.

Margaret nodded, smiling but very nearly crying at the same time. 'Yes, John, yes I will marry you.'

Margaret's heart now thudded in her chest as John's hands framed her face. As he leaned towards her she could feel his warm breath. With her eyes half closed in anticipation, Margaret was spellbound by his perfectly formed mouth..

John gently brushed his lips against Margaret's forehead, trailing smaller kisses down her cheeks until he gently, sensually pressed his mouth to hers. Moving slowly at first, he made sure not to overwhelm Margaret. He gathered it was the first time she would have been kissed like this. He wanted it to be the sweetest of memories for them both. It was the moment he had been dreaming about almost since the day they had met.

With a good deal of self-restraint he finally pulled back. Wrapping his arms around her, he drew Margaret to his chest, rejoicing in the feel of her soft form in his embrace. John kissed her hair before resting his chin upon her head.

At that moment John recalled a vivid memory from the night Margaret arrived at his bedside. He could not resist teasing her. 'I might complain that it is usually the gentleman's prerogative to choose the timing of the first kiss.'

Margaret looked up in horror. 'You felt me kiss you?' Margaret wondered what else he remembered.

'I must confess that I did not hear or feel much during my fever. Even of what I do recall I am uncertain whether it was real or a dream. It is nice to know though that I was not mistaken in that.' John looked down lovingly at the delicate creature that had just agreed to share his life. 'Thank you for coming to me Margaret,' John said tenderly. 'You could have no conception of what it meant to me to wake up and find you by my sick bed. After everything, every delay, every complication, to know that you still had faith in me – in us. It gave me reason to live if I did not have a reason before.'

After a time of just sitting together, savoring their first embrace, John spoke his thoughts aloud. 'My greatest fear was that I would lose you to someone else, someone more worthy before I could raise my fortunes. I am so relieved that we will not have to wait forever.'

Margaret sat up to look into the depths of John's eyes. Beaming with happiness she said, 'you were never in very much danger of losing me, even if you had made me wait forever. You captured my heart with your wild northern ways.' Margaret playfully brushed her fingers through the beard that John still sported, tickling under his chin. 'There would never be another who could come close. I am quite sure of that.'

John pulled Margaret into his arms again, this time deepening his kiss, awakening a repressed passion that threatened to consume them both with its intensity. As their lips separated, John leant his forehead against hers while he regained his composure.

Straightening up to look at her now John asked, 'When will you marry me Margaret?'

Before answering, Margaret sat back against the garden bench and leaned her head on John's shoulder. John wrapped his arm around her, enjoying the intimacy they now shared. 'I need to go back to Harley Street and speak with my Aunt Shaw. There are arrangements that will need to be made.'

'Just don't make me wait too long my love. I have waited long enough already.' John kissed the top of her head.

Margaret felt it was time to tell John the truth she had been avoiding. 'John, about you working for Mr Watson.' Margaret turned again to face him. 'Are you sure that is what you really want? I mean, I know it will allow us to marry, but do you think that you could ever really be satisfied with just managing a mill? Marlborough Mill was everything to you. It was almost an extension of you.. And what about your work in America? Surely it is not finished.'

John caressed her cheek with his hand, marveling at her belief in him. 'Mr Adams and I have agreed to continue to share ideas in letters. I achieved quite a lot in the time I was there. His managers are good men and will continue on where I left off. I did not need to stay.' John smiled adoringly at Margaret. 'My darling Margaret, you must know by now that I will only ever be truly content if you are by my side.'

'Those are lovely sentiments John but I can't agree. I just don't think that I can stand by and watch you waste everything you are and all that you have learnt on something that will never truly be yours? I do not think that you should go to work for Mr Watson.' A look of steely determination pervaded Margaret's face, which both amused and concerned John.

'Margaret, what are you saying? This may be our only option. Our only hope of being together.' Now that she was here in his arms, John was not prepared to wait longer than he had to, to make her his own.

'John if I am to be your wife, I need to tell you about an idea I have and you must promise to listen and not to let your stubborn pride stand in the way.'

John was now regarding Margaret, completely bemused by her speech. Not knowing what plan this feisty and remarkable woman was devising, he nodded. 'Go on, I'm listening,' he teased.

'John, you do not know it yet, but there is another option for you, and for us. I wrote to you in America but you must not have received my letter before you left for England.' Margaret could barely contain her enthusiasm.

'John, I have a business proposition…'

THE END

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_And they lived happily ever after! Thank you to everyone for reading my adaptation. I enjoyed your reviews and comments. I would still love to hear if you had a favourite part or chapter. Personally I had a lot of fun writing Mrs Thornton. _


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